Not-So-Sweet Dreams
by Dala1
Summary: (movieverse, R/L, set after Dala's other fics) Logan is not happy with these sleeping arrangements.


Disclaimer: The characters below don't belong to me, I just borrow them and make them do obscene things. Like how a brother steals his sister's Barbies.  
Author's Note: This started out as a serious fic, and then lightened into a sort of comedy. So if it seems unbalanced, I apologize. And I actually incorporated a bit of comicverse: Psylocke. If I got her terribly wrong, I'm sorry, but she's only in it for a bit. I think I'll do a sequel to this, but I'm not sure. Please review and encourage me if you liked it! :)  
  
  
  
Logan was awakened by sunlight stabbing through his sensitive nerves.  
  
Opening his eyes, he squinted at Rogue and growled. "Thought that would do the trick," she said cheerily.  
  
Receiving only a grunt as an answer, she crossed from the window to the bedside and waved a green shirt in front of him. "Is this yours? You and Scott have almost the same one."  
  
"It's his," Logan muttered, realizing that he wasn't going to get anymore rest this morning. "But *this* is mine," he said, grabbing her by the waist.  
  
Rogue thwapped him with the shirt and said, "Pig!", but let herself be pulled down into his embrace. "You have good taste, though," she whispered, bumping her nose against his.  
  
"What are you doing up so early, anyway? You're no more of a morning person than I am." Logan ran his hands through her hair, mussing the carefully-brushed chestnut waves. He liked it better that way.  
  
She pushed irritably at his hands and sighed. "I have laundry duty this week. Figured I'd get it done quick, and we could go catch a movie or something. Or stay in bed," she amended, grinning as his wandering hands moved southward. Deciding that she had entirely too many clothes on, Logan went to work on removing her blouse. Rogue kissed his neck and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, drawing him down on top of her.  
  
Just then the alarm clock buzzed, and he seriously considering slicing it in two. But Rogue jumped out of bed, buttoning her shirt back up and trying to put some semblance of order back into her hair. Logan grinned and silently slid her brush off the nightstand and behind his back, enjoying the sight of her rifling through the room for it. Finally she turned and lifted an eyebrow at his mischievous expression.  
  
"Looking for this?" he inquired. Lying on his side, head propped up by one hand, he dangled the brush in the other. Rogue glared and crossed her arms over her chest. "You'll have to come and get it from me, sweetheart."  
  
She fought off a smile and tried to look stern. "You have a class in ten minutes, Romeo."  
  
Logan groaned and covered his eyes. "I forgot." Even though he had only been teaching it for a few weeks, his combat training course had already become famous as the Torture Room among the student body.   
  
Still, he was interested in only one student body at the present; the others could wait. He stood up and proceeded menacingly toward her, but Rogue picked up the laundry basket and used it to fend him off. "No," she said firmly. "I have a new tutor to meet in the library, and I still have to take all this down to the basement.  
  
He bared his teeth at her, spoiling the effect by adding an enormous yawn. "Alright," he said ruefully. "But don't think you're off the hook so easily! I have a nice long lunch hour."  
  
"Wouldn't dream of missin' it, darlin'," Rogue said with a smile, her Southern twang intensified on purpose. She kissed him quickly and left the room.  
  
Shaking his head, Logan headed for the shower. It was going to be a long morning.  
  
  
  
Rogue stepped into the laundry room, and immediately averted her eyes.  
  
Two of the younger students were making out on the dryer. She didn't know their names, but recognized the boy as having the power to cast illusions, which he proved just then by making his clothes and his girlfriend's appear less rumpled. Rogue bit her lip, trying not to smile.  
  
"Uh, hey," the girl said nervously in a soft British accent, jumping off the machine. She extended a hand in greeting, getting over her embarrassment quickly. "I'm Elizabeth, but you can call me Betsy."  
  
Rogue shook the proffered hand, glad she had remembered to pull on her gloves, and watched in silent amusement as the boy looked down at the ground, at the piles of clothing--anywhere but her eyes.  
  
He finally looked up, and she was startled to notice his resemblance to Scott Summers. Younger, of course, probably not any older than sixteen, but very similar in looks.  
  
And she suddenly recognized Betsy, as the younger girl reached out and psychically brought a jacket to her fingertips. She'd seen the girl mooning over Scott, when Rogue had brought him a message from Xavier while he was teaching a mechanics class.  
  
"You're Rogue, right?" Betsy's voice brought Rogue's attention back to her. "You go with that hairy X-Man, the Wolverine? The older guy? Ah, I mean, he's cute and all--" Turning red, the girl pushed a lock of violet hair behind her ears.  
  
"Yes," Rogue said. It occurred to her for the first time since rescuing Logan that a lot of the other residents in the mansion thought their relationship was . . . well, strange. Which Rogue readily admitted. But she thought it a pity that they didn't see his gentler side; he was always so gruff with everyone else.  
  
The boy spoke for the first time, shuffling past Rogue and to the door. "I gotta go," he mumbled in their direction. "Bye Betsy."  
  
She barely seemed to notice him, peering curiously at Rogue. "Is he really that old? Some kids I know said that he's got this healing ability, so he could be a lot older than he looks--"  
  
"I don't know exactly how old Logan is, and neither does he," Rogue interrupted, a little more harshly than she meant.  
  
"Oh," Betsy said awkwardly.  
  
Rogue hefted the laundry basket in her hands meaningfully. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Betsy, but I've got to finish this and then get to class," she said.  
  
The other girl smiled pleasantly and said, "Yes, very nice to meet you, perhaps we'll see each other again soon!" She put the lavender suede jacket on and left the room.  
  
Placing the basket down on the washing machine, Rogue surveyed the contents of the room. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling more tired than she had been before.  
  
  
  
*I hate kids. Absolutely hate 'em.*  
  
"Shut up!" Logan barked at the freshman class. The eighteen mutant students hushed instantly, and looked at him with a wary eye.  
  
"Alright," he growled, pacing the room with his arms locked behind his back, looking very much like a military commander in his olive-colored T-shirt and khakis. And the students were standing almost at attention. Almost. Logan paused to glare at one adolescent boy who was snickering with his friends. The offending child's head snapped up as he found a fierce, feral gaze boring into his own.   
  
"Game of basketball. Everyone participates. Separate into three groups, three on three. No girls against boys, no shirts and skins, and no powers. Is that understood?"  
  
"Yes, Mr. Logan!" the class chorused.  
  
"Good," he said with a nod of approval.  
  
Peeking through the gym door, Rogue doubled over in laughter. He'd said he taught combat classes, not regular old gym. *But it'll be good for his level of tolerance,* she thought, still giggling.  
  
"Hey! Andrews! I said no powers! That'll be twenty pushups, bub!"  
  
  
  
Rogue returned to her old room, determined to finish moving her things into Logan's. It was a mess, despite the fact that she'd hardly been there at all lately. Xavier needed it for new students.  
  
She was looking through her closet to make sure she had gotten her purple scarf when the phone rang. Rogue picked it up, eager for an excuse to interrupt her cleaning. "Hello?"  
  
"Hey!"  
  
Rogue smiled. "Hey Jubes, what's up? Haven't talked to you in awhile."  
  
"I know, because you never call!" Since Jubilee had started going to college in New York City, she'd been back for only a few visits, though she intended to come back and serve as an X-Man when the semester was over (something no one except Kitty and Rogue knew yet).   
  
"Anyway," Jubilee continued, talking a mile a minute in a highly excited voice, "did I tell you about this new guy I'm seeing? His name is Michael and he's absolutely gorgeous!"  
  
Rogue listened for a few moments to Jubilee's description of her date last night. She realized that she and Logan hadn't actually gone out, or at least nowhere formal. Movies and a burger didn't really count as a date, in her opinion.  
  
"So are you dating anyone?" Jubilee changed topics without blinking. "How's everybody? The Professor? Dr. Grey? Bobby?"  
  
"Hey, slow down!" Laughing, Rogue switched the phone to her other ear. She missed the friends who had graduated last spring, although Bobby Drake had stayed to join the team and now called himself Iceman.   
  
"Are you doing anything this weekend? I thought we could go out to the theatre or something, with Michael, and he's got a brother two years older than us who would really like you, I think--"  
  
"Something tells me Logan would not be pleased with that," Rogue interrupted good-naturedly.  
  
A pause. Dammit, she hadn't talked to Jubilee since before what had happened with him.  
  
"Um . . . is he . . . back?" The other girl's voice was much slower now.  
  
Rogue twirled the phone cord in her fingers. "Yes, and some extraordinary things have happened, Jubilee. Somehow, a freak accident of science, or a miracle, I don't know . . . anyhow, I can touch him. Without my powers affecting him."  
  
Jubilee paused again, and Rogue was confused. Wasn't her dear friend happy for her? "Well? Aren't you going to say anything?" Trying to sound nonchalant, Rogue laughed, a sound that seemed forced even to herself.  
  
"Oh, it's really great," Jubilee said, too quickly. "I mean, it's great for that to happen to you, but . . . Wolvie? I thought you grew out of that a long time ago."  
  
It was hard not to bristle at her tone. "No, I didn't. I was in love with Logan, Jubilee, and I still am."  
  
"And he loves you?"  
  
"Of course!"  
  
"It's just that . . . I dunno, he doesn't seem like the type of guy who'd do well in a relationship."  
  
Now she really was angry. What right did Jubilee have to judge Logan? She hadn't seen him; she didn't know! "And I suppose you're just the expert on relationships," Rogue snapped. "This is, what, the fourth boyfriend in as many months?"  
  
Jubilee's voice was just as cold as Rogue felt inside. "At least my boyfriends don't go off and leave me alone for a year! At least *my* boyfriends have families, and pasts, and don't carry some kind of grudge against the world and all the people in it!"  
  
"Who the hell do you think you are, Jubilee? You don't know him!"  
  
"And neither do you," Jubilee shot back. And her emotions changed as quickly as they had flared up. "I'm sorry, Rogue, but I don't think he's right for you," she said gently.  
  
"It's not your decision."  
  
Jubilee sighed loudly, sounding regretful. "I know, I'm sorry for yelling. I just don't want to see you hurt again, babes. And I don't think this man can do anything but hurt you."  
  
"You don't know him," Rogue repeated in a whisper. She was close to tears, and knew Jubilee could hear it in her voice. "I love him, Jubes. I . . . think I always will. Can't everyone just accept that?"  
  
"Sure, sure," Jubilee said in a conciliatory tone. "Let's not fight now, Rogue. I still want to see you this weekend, and you can bring Logan if you want--in fact, I insist that you do!"  
  
The argument had clearly not shaken up Jubilee as it had Rogue. "Okay," she said, willing herself to stop twisting the poor cord out of shape. "I'll call you later, Jubilee."  
  
"Bye, Rogue."  
  
"Good bye." She hung up and sat for awhile. Staring at the phone, Rogue drew her knees up to her chin and thought about what Jubilee had said.  
  
She was right, on some accounts. Logan was not a boyfriend type. He was an I-don't-need-anyone type, a pure loner. As good as they were going now, it was possible that he might eventually grow restless, seek out someone else's company.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous," she told herself out loud. "Logan wouldn't do something like that. He loves you."  
  
And yet . . . *he's never said it,* she realized with a shock. How had she never noticed? He had never come out and said 'I love you.' Three short words, three syllables, eight letters, and he hadn't said them. Logan wasn't much of a talker, but surely even he could handle eight tiny letters! During this musing, she of course forgot that she hadn't said it either.  
  
She didn't hear Logan as he came in quietly, wanting to surprise her. Her vision suddenly went black, and she could feel hands on her face--on her bare face!  
  
Rogue jerked away and whirled around. Logan pulled his hands back and wondered at the wild look in her eyes. "It's just me, kid."  
  
But she didn't relax as she normally would have. "Old habits die hard," she said apologetically, but she was still breathing too quickly.  
  
Frowning, Logan sat down on the bed beside her, carefully not touching her. "Are you alright? Did something happen?" His voice was low with concern.  
  
Rogue hugged her knees to her chest and fought back tears. Never was she so conscious of her young age as when she was crying; it made her feel like a child, and she feared he regarded her as one.   
  
"No," she said, voice shaking only a little bit. "Jubilee called, and I'm just missing her and everybody, is all."  
  
Logan knew she was keeping something back, and somewhere in his mind that hurt, but seeing her so miserable hurt worse. "Hey, now," he murmured, lifting her onto his lap and holding her tight. "It's okay."  
  
Burying her face in his neck, Rogue considered bringing up the subject that had her so upset. It would be easy, curled in his arms like this, to just ask him. She opened her mouth to say the words . . .   
  
. . . and shut it again, suddenly uncertain. If she said to him, "Do you love me?", what was he going to say, "No"? No man in his right mind would do that; and if he only said yes because she put him on the spot, it wouldn't mean a thing.  
  
No, it was better just to leave things as they were. He would say it on his own, eventually, and if he didn't . . . well, she would worry about that when it came.  
  
Lifting her chin to look at him, Logan smiled, his eyes twinkling. "I think we should put this bed to good use, one more time. What do you say?"  
  
Putting her qualms in the back of her thoughts, Rogue nodded and kissed him hungrily.   
  
*I do love you, Logan* It was logical that, not wanting to break the kiss, she didn't say it right then.  
  
  
  
They went for a walk later that night, hands clasped. Logan was feeling the full moon in his blood, and having Rogue with him, the feeling didn't frighten him so much. He knew he'd never do anything to harm her, so he was safe as long as she was with.  
  
Wandering around the gardens, laughing as he told her about one bonehead student or another, Rogue felt content. Here they were, taking a walk around their home like a normal couple, full moon shining to light their way.  
  
Logan paused on the path. "Want to go for a ride?"  
  
She smiled lazily and twined her arms around his neck. "This late?"  
  
"Sure. You haven't lived till you've ridden a bike like mine through the empty roads." Scott had renounced all claims on that particular motorcycle; if he hadn't, Logan would merely have kept stealing it. Now it was one of his prized possessions, and he cared for it like a violist would care for his delicate instrument: buying expensive, special soaps to make it shine, cleaning it every other day, making sure never to use any other fuel than the best Xavier's school could offer.  
  
They set off toward the garage, and looking up in surprise as two headlights trained on them. Neither could see the driver at first, but as the car was parked, Rogue let out a shriek and hurtled herself at Jubilee.  
  
The two girls laughed and embraced. Logan stood back, embarrassed to watch this strange female ritual of squeal, hug, squeal, and hug again.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Rogue asked breathlessly.  
  
Jubilee sobbed dramatically, though he could see clearly that there wasn't a tear in her eye. "I walked in on Michael with another woman, so I just grabbed a few things and hopped in the car. The Prof can afford to put up with me for the weekend." She noticed Logan and nodded. "Hey."  
  
He made a similar motion, and offered the same greeting. Rogue looked anxiously between her lover and her friend. It wasn't that they disliked each other; they just had never spent much time together, and Jubilee naturally resented a man who had scorned Rogue so badly.   
  
*But they're going to work out their differences,* Rogue thought fiercely, or I'll knock their heads together until they do*  
  
Jubilee turned back to Rogue and grinned. Linking arms, the two young women began walking back to the mansion, Logan following just behind. *Like a dog,* he thought bitterly. *Like a faithful pup. Oh, I'm being ridiculous. This is a good friend she hasn't seen in several months; who am I to begrudge them a little fun? I'm not gonna play the jealous boyfriend* Even if he was. Even if just the thought of having his private moment with Rogue spoiled by a gum-popping girl in an ugly yellow leather trenchcoat was enough to make him hunch his shoulders and put his best asshole look on.  
  
"So you're only here for a few days?"  
  
"Yeah, I can't miss that many classes. But I just couldn't deal with *sniff* seeing Michael with his new fling." Rogue tried not to roll her eyes at Jubilee's drama queen act--Logan not only rolled his eyes, but snorted derisively as well. She shot him a quick look over her shoulder, a you-behave look, and he fought the urge to growl.  
  
"Your old room's all filled up with new kids, Jubes."  
  
The other girl sighed. "I guess I knew that; it's so depressing to find things different!" Rogue wondered briefly if her relationship with Logan was considered a part of that. "I guess I'll stay with Storm or something . . ."  
  
The comment was begging for an invite, and Logan was glad that Rogue had moved in with him; he wouldn't have wanted her to share a room with Jubilee, as well as her time.  
  
But to his surprise, she said, "Don't be silly, you'll stay with us!"  
  
Jubilee glanced back at Logan, who had actually stopped walking. "Us?"  
  
"Me'n'Logan." Apparently she remembered him then, because she halted and turned around. "That's okay, right?" He wanted nothing more than to say no, it was *not* okay, but she gave him such a hopeful look with those big green eyes, shining brighter than any stars, and sighing, he nodded once.  
  
"Good." Rogue flashed him a quick smile and picked up her dialogue with Jubilee again.  
  
*You're turning into a spineless creature,* he warned himself. *She's got you in the palm of her hand, and you'd say yes if she asked to take in Cyclops!*  
  
Disgusted with himself, but inevitably happy because she was so happy (he hated it when that happened), Logan followed the two girls back to the mansion, hands thrust in his pockets.  
  
*Women.*  
  
  
Rogue frowned at the bathroom. "This is the third shower he's taken today. That can't be healthy."  
  
Jubilee giggled. "I wonder what he does in there . . ."  
  
"Besides wash?" Rogue said tartly. "Trust me, there's no need for Logan to take extra time in the shower."  
  
"Whatever you say." Jubilee spotted the mini-fridge and pounced on it. "Got any thing to drink?"  
  
"Soda, I think, maybe a beer."  
  
"No, just Coke. Oh well." Pulling one out and popping it open, Jubilee grinned at Rogue, who did not like the look in her eye. "So what's this old bastard like in bed, anyway?"  
  
"Jubilee!"  
  
"I bet he's an anim--"  
  
"Jubil*ation* Lee." Rogue clapped a hand over her friend's mouth, pretending to be scandalized. "I don't kiss and tell."  
  
Taking another sip of her Coke, Jubilee shrugged. "I didn't ask you about kissing."  
  
"That's enough!" Rogue laughed and threw Jubilee's duffel bag at her. "You can sleep on the sofa, and are you going to talk to the Professor in the morning?"  
  
"A'course. First thing." She raised her eyebrows as Rogue started to go into the bathroom.  
  
Her hand on the knob, Rogue turned around and said, "What? It's my place too, and I have to pee!"  
  
"Sure, uh-huh," Jubilee replied, winking and taking a slug of her drink.  
  
  
  
*Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.*  
Letting the hot water course down his back, Logan stopped his silent curses long enough to reflect that, ironically, he wasn't going to be doing anything of the sort tonight. Not with Jubilee out there on the couch.  
  
Strong arms wrapped around his waist, and he half-turned, meeting Rogue's smiling eyes. "Brooding so hard you didn't hear me come in, eh?"  
  
He turned slowly and pressed her up against the wall of the shower. That skin, that pale soft stuff that had never been touched by anyone else in the ways he had touched it, was teasing every inch of his own. "Can't believe I'm being driven to make love in my own damned shower," he muttered.  
  
"Well, if you're going to turn down the offer . . ." She swung under his arm and made as if to leave, but he gripped her arm and pulled her back.   
  
"I'd have to be insane to do that, beautiful," he murmured in a low, seductive voice. Logan held her hands over her head with one of his own, and ran the other down her side, eliciting a sigh. It rested on the curve of her hip, and his lips brushed low, beneath her collarbone and down to her breasts  
  
"I'm not so sure you aren't," she said, freeing her hands and gripping his head to look at her. Her expression was of a passionate need, and he could smell the desire drifting from her body. "Luckily we're pretty much the same in that way."  
  
  
  
Jubilee looked curiously around the room. It was about the same size as her old one, but she had shared that with two other people. And her walls had been decorated with posters and calendars, pinups torn from teen magazines; here they were sparse, with only a painting of a farm house in the snow. There was a bookshelf, too, of dark-grained wood, but none of the books were to her taste. Surely Rogue had something more interesting to read . . .   
  
She opened a drawer and peeked in. No, these were definitely not books. Jubilee winked at a few pairs of black lace panties. *Naughty girl. I approve.*  
  
As long as she'd started snooping, she might as well answer the age-old question, in regards to Logan. Jubilee would have expected some tighty-whiteys, but she made a face at the sensible cotton boxer shorts in the next underwear drawer. There were only a few pairs of briefs, which he probably wore with that tight uniform. A shimmer caught her eye, though, and she nearly choked as her fingers brushed against the unmistakable softness of silk. She snorted with laughter as she pulled out a single pair of yellow silk boxers. Maybe she should change her favorite color.  
  
Jubilee shoved the drawers shut and relaxed on the couch, pulling a copy of Vogue out of her bag.  
  
It was not quiet enough to concentrate, however--there were suspicious sounds coming from beyond the bathroom door that sounded like feet sliding along a slick shower floor, and even . . . yes, there it was again, a faint moan.  
  
She put on her headphones and gave the closed door a disgusted look. "Eww," she accused it.  
  
  
  
When Logan walked out fifteen minutes later, he headed to his bed without a word or a look at Jubilee. He turned out the lights, ignoring her indignant "Hey! I'm reading here!", and fell headfirst into the bed.  
  
Rogue emerged a bit later, and Jubilee raised her head to look. She was wearing far skimpier clothing that usual; a snug tank top and sleep shorts. Illuminated by the bathroom lights, she smiled and said, "G'night Jubes." Then there was a rustle of sheets, the sound of a body settling into bed, and it was quiet for awhile. But soon Jubilee could hear the low murmur of voices, and she strained her ears, trying to make them out.  
  
Logan's next words were quite clear. "We may as well shut up, because our guest is snooping."  
  
Jubilee ducked her head, and heard the movement of the crisp sheets as Rogue kicked him lightly. "Lo-gan!"  
  
"What?" he demanded. "I can hear her breathing!"  
  
"That's not the point, it was rude."  
  
Dropping his voice back down to a lower level, he muttered, "You should have asked me." And he turned his back to her.  
  
Rogue sighed and draped an arm over his side. "You're right, I should have, and I'm sorry. But let's not go to bed mad. Please?" Reluctantly Logan rolled over onto his back and gathered her against his side. He couldn't deny her anything, annoyance of having Jubilee here aside.   
  
Knowing just which buttons to push and soothe, Rogue took his hands in hers and gently rubbed the area between his knuckles, where the blades came out. As always, her massage caused him to tense and then relax, though he growled softly. She pressed her lips to his throat, where his voice box was, and giggled as it rumbled. Logan smiled, that rare, sweet smile that she so loved to feel against her skin, and held her tight.  
  
"Great," came a sarcastic voice. "Now I get to listen to you two do it again!"  
  
"Go to sleep, Jubilee!" This time their voices were raised in unity, and she subsided, and obeyed.  



End file.
